


Beneath the Mask

by MiaLyn



Category: Justice League & Justice League Unlimited (Cartoons)
Genre: AU Canon Divergence, Diana hides her identity, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-03-27 00:58:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13869687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiaLyn/pseuds/MiaLyn
Summary: Batman knows he and Wonder Woman could have been good, but when Bruce Wayne meets Diana Prince, he is intrigued. Wonder Woman has a crush on Batman, but when he makes his lack of interest clear, Diana Prince considers giving Bruce Wayne a chance. What can possibly go wrong?





	1. Making Plans

**Beneath the Mask**

**1 – Making Plans**

 

Batman wanted to ask him something. Clark had known him long enough to recognize the signs. To the others, he would appear his usual stoic and grumpy self; but to him, and perhaps to J’onn and maybe Wonder Woman, he was subtly stealing glances at him. The meeting was reaching to its end, so he decided to cut it short and thanked everyone for their presence. Flash left first, eager to reach the kitchen, quickly followed by John and Shayera. J’onn had engaged a debate with Wonder Woman on a TV show currently airing. When it became obvious they weren’t going to move anytime soon, he gave his friend a pointed look and walked out. As he expected, the man followed him to a side room and shut the door behind them.

“This sounds serious,” Clark started with a half-smile. Bruce was paranoid to boot, but this clearly showed he did not want to be overheard.

“I need a favor,” Bruce bluntly announced. “Can we switch shifts tonight?”

That was not what Clark had expected. Though in foresight, anything could be expected from the unpredictable man.

“Is there trouble brewing in Gotham?” he inquired, though not worriedly. If it had been a true emergency, his friend wouldn’t be standing here but flying in the depths of his city.

“No, not that I’m aware of,” Bruce started and –was that red creeping over his cheeks? His heartbeat had slightly accelerated, blood rushing up and –yes, the Batman was blushing. “I have a…meeting.”

Clark couldn’t help but smirk:

“Who’s the unlucky woman?” he asked, intrigued. Batman grunted but, much to his surprise, answered nonetheless:

“Do you remember the charity gala where Bruce Wayne was captured by a troop of mercenaries?” Clark nodded. He remembered worrying for his friend later on, as he couldn’t have defended himself unless he wanted his identity revealed. “There was another hostage. She was brought with me and we were able to escape together.”

“She must have made an impression,” Clark remarked.

“She was…impressive,” Batman admitted, which surprised the other man; Bruce very rarely gave out compliments. “But it’s not what you think.”

Clark didn’t hold back his grin this time.

“You are asking me to cover your shift for a date with a woman you’ve only meet once and who holds no significant importance to your life or Gotham’s.”

“It’s not a date,” he protested. “She rescued Bruce Wayne, it’s the least he can do.” Why was Clark under the impression he was searching for excuses?

“Uh-hum.”

“He owes her that dinner.”

“Of course.”

“It’s just dinner,” Bruce repeated, though Clark couldn’t figure out who he was trying to convince. He tried not to smirk; seeing his friend flustered was worth a little teasing. Another thought occurred to him and his smile fell slightly.

“So that means you won’t pursue Wonder Woman after all?”

At the mention of his other colleague, his friend seemed to hesitate.

“There is nothing between Wonder Woman and me,” he said dryly, although Clark didn’t need superpowers to know he was lying.

Nothing much was known about their colleague, except that she had suddenly showed up like the others, responding to J’onn’s telepathic reach.She hid her face underneath a gladiator-like helmet with a one-way glass visor, had clearly stated that should any of them try to figure out her other identity there would be hell to pay, but otherwise had proven to be one of the kindest women he’d ever met.Ever since the League had been formed, she and Bruce had had a _thing._ They were two passionate people with strong personalities who could clash hard, but who still had each other's back in the direst situations.Within months, it had become clear they had potential to become something more. Now, it seemed that Bruce was moving onto someone else.

But Clark wasn’t one to judge, even though he felt disappointed in his friend. Wonder Woman had made her interest in him clear and while Batman obviously –to Clark at least –reciprocated it, he wouldn’t take that step. It was a shame; she would have been good for him.

“Go to your date in peace, I’ll cover for you,” Clark assured him eventually.

“Thank you,” he replied and in pure Batman fashion, turned around to leave, business over.

“What’s her name?” Clark called after him.

Bruce paused, his hand on the handle of the door.

“Diana,” he replied, and took his leave.

**Beneath the Mask**

 

Wonder Woman waved off J’onn as he left the conference room. She and the Martian had agreed to disagree on the highly controversial ending of Dexter and leave the discussion for better days, if only because J’onn had a sudden craving for Oreos. And she had somewhere to be in a few hours. She was promptly distracted by Batman walking determinedly away to the Monitor Womb. She watched him go by a few seconds, frowned as she noticed that something was amiss, and made up her mind. Her appointment was not her highest priority, she could spare a few minutes with her favorite Justice League member. She joined and fell in step with him.

“You were distracted during the meeting,” she pointed out on a neutral tone; which was true:he had been fidgeting and glancing at Kal the whole time. “Is everything alright?”

Batman gave her a stern look –or she assumed he did, it was hard to figure out his moods behind this cowl.

“I see your concentration wasn’t at best either, if you were more focused on inconsequential details.”

Not quite a reproach, but a warning that Wonder Woman happily ignored. Had Flash asked the same question, Batman would have merely glared until the speedster gave up and vanished. She considered herself flattered he even bothered wording an answer.

“My lack of concentration is due to your clear lack of interest.”

“No-one noticed.”

“Except for me and Kal.” J’onn had been thinking of trying the new white chocolate edition of Oreos, Flash too bored to focus and John and Shayera only half-listening. Sometimes she pitied Kal for going through all this trouble only to have two members paying attention. “Therefore, I should blame _you_ for being distracted.”

Batman did not snort, but he made a noise she translated between amused and disbelieved.

“Whatever makes you feel better, Wonder Woman.”

He wouldn’t answer her question, but if he allowed himself to humor her, then the matter mustn’t be dramatic.

“Aren’t you cute,” she replied with a sigh, then focused on the real reason why she had approached him. “Is your leg hurting badly?”

His step lost its regular rhythm for a split second –a subtle mark of surprise. He hid his limp quite well, but not well enough to escape her notice. Perhaps that was only her though, she had a lot more experience in spotting wounds on a mortal body and Batman was only human. It was so easy to forget it sometimes, especially in the field.

In pure Batman fashion, he grunted.

“I could help your muscles relax,” she offered. “Your left leg is a bit stiff; I know a massaging technique that will release the tension-“

“It’s unnecessary,” he retorted dryly.

And up went the walls again. She nearly threw her hands up in exasperation. She would know, of course, that her teammate was more likely to dismiss her than open up like he did with Kal, but his rebuttal always left her frustrated. Gods, why did she have to develop a crush on such a stubborn mule! She attempted a new tactic:

“You won’t be much use if you fall upon a situation during your shift and have to intervene.”

“I won’t be on shift tonight.”

“Really?” she inquired, intrigued. “Gotham is in such need of salvation again?” He suddenly looked uncomfortable and avoided her eyes –or rather, her visor. And it slowly dawned upon her. There was only one reason why he would be fidgety like this around her. “Oh…you have a date.”

“It’s-“

“None of my business, I know,” she interrupted with a false cheer. Her heart was pounding loudly into her ears. “Well then, I’ll let you…do whatever you do. I’m off duty tonight,” she added lamely; this was Batman, he knew everything. “Are you really sure you don’t want me to help you relieve some of that muscle tension?”

His leg was becoming stiffer as they walked. Though she highly doubted he was in great pain, he must be itching for rest.

“I will be fine,” the rebuttal wasn’t as dry, but it still stung. “Thank you for the offer.”

Wonder Woman gave him a last smile before redirecting her steps to the transporter pad. She tried not to think of the disappointed pang in her chest. It was his right to date outside the League; they were only colleagues after all. But was it wrong from her part to hope that perhaps they could have…?

_Set your head straight, you’re going out tonight_ , she chided herself.

Once the transporter had sent her down on earth, she flew over the cities to reach a small place in the outskirts of New York. She landed near a small abandoned cabin where a backpack was hidden with her civilian clothes. She first took off the revisited version of the Helm of Hades and let her long dark silky hair cascade down over her face and shoulders. She then untied the red cape made of the wool of the Golden Fleece, folded it with respect, and put it into the bag along with the helmet. Then, she slipped on the clean T-shirt and black jeans over her red bustier. The red boots would stay, as the pants covered its entity down to the ankles. She tied her hair in a high ponytail at last and walked to the bunch of houses built nearby.

Mrs. Floyd was swiping outside her door while three cats watched her every movement, eagerly waiting for her to return inside and fetch them a treat. When the old woman saw her step by, she gave her a small wave.

“Coming home from work, Diana?”

Diana Prince waved back. She liked her old neighbor, no matter how often she tried to pair her off with one of her grandsons.

“It’s been a long day Mrs. Floyd,” she said with a smile.

“That’s when a man comes in, my dear,” the old lady retorted. “He gets the house and diner all set and ready. My Dorian is a great cook, have I mentioned that?”

Dorian Floyd, her favorite grandson. He was a nice man, but not meant for her.

“Yes you have. I can’t stay Mrs. Floyd, I have a date tonight.”

Sometimes Diana wondered if her neighbor hadn’t been a bug in a former life; she could almost see the antenna peek up on the top of the woman’s head, eager for more information.

“Oh really?”

“Really,” Diana replied gently but firmly. “And I need to get ready. Good evening, Mrs. Floyd.”

She didn’t wait for an answer and hurried inside her house. It was a two level, small and classic suburban house that she had bought decades ago. Officially, Steve and Etta were the owners and she was a distant cousin staying with them. Unofficially, she had let them use the house after they had married. Her daytime job as an independent translator allowed her to be flexible as to where she worked, and her role as Wonder Woman often led her all over the world. She barely spent any time there anyway.

The second she opened the door, she was flattened by two huge bully kutta dogs and showered with drool and furry affection.

“Kerr! Russ!” she barked, only to be gratified by another long, disgusting lick from the dog on her left. “Down boys!Down!”

“I’m so sorry Di, they just bolted when they heard you coming.”

Etta, a little weak from the flu, arrived running and tried to pull Russ away from his owner. Diana managed to stand after a few minutes fight and close the door. Their wagging tails made loud ‘thumps, thumps’ against the wall.

“They’ve been fidgeting all day long,” the bubbly redhead complained. “Steve tried to bring them to the doggie park to play but they scared all the others.”

Diana laughed and petted the two hounds behind their ears. The tails waggled even harder but they remained put.

“You’ve given Etta some trouble eh? I think it’s time you get rest and allow her some too.”

The two dogs whimpered, gave her a last generous lick and trotted back to the living room. Etta sighed tiredly.

“I wish I could do that too. It would save me so much trouble.”

“They are Cerberus’ spawns,” Diana explained, not for the first time. “Trust me; they are far easier to care for than the original three-headed dog.”

“That’s because they only listen to you! When I left home for the first time, my father gave me a hundred bucks and pat in the back. Not a pair of hellhounds.”

Diana smiled at her remark. Nearly a millennium ago, back on Themiscyra, she had overheard two Amazons whispering about Hades’ possible meddling with her creation. In typical strong-headed teenager attitude, she had confronted her mother.When Hippolyta had half-admitted the Lord of the Underworld had a hand in her sculpting, she had sneaked into Tartarus to confront the god himself. Hades, who had no knowledge of her existence, had somehow believed her story and taken a liking to her. She had remained by his side for a few centuries to get to know him better. Needless to say, Hippolyta had not been pleased.

“For all he is an arrogant bastard, father worries too much,” Diana replied softly. “Mother isn’t as forthcoming.”

Hippolyta had always blamed Hades for her curiosity about Man’s World. But after meeting and discussing with all the lost souls that ended down her father’s throne, Diana had decided a little exploring would be worth it. Her first outing, in the middle of the Second World War, had not gone so well. The battles and savagery of mankind had horrified her and even though she had built solid friendships in her time in the army, a retreat back to Themiscyra had been necessary. Her second outing had been a few decades later and much smoother. She had been integrated among mankind for a decade when she had heard the call of the Martian Manhunter.

“Your mother got angry because you stole a pinup outfit,” Etta mumbled. “I’m still not sure if exile is worth wearing a bustier and dominatrix boots in a world of jerks. Forget what I said,Di. I’m rooting for the Lord of the Underworld and his two pets after all.”

Diana laughed. She wasn’t sure Etta fully grabbed the meaning of her being the daughter of a god and an Amazon Queen, but she was glad her friend didn’t seem to consider her any differently.

“I’m going out tonight,” she reminded her.“Don’t wait me up.”

“Oh, yes! Steve mentioned some guy managed to catch your attention. I’d say its bloody time! I hate seeing you pinning over Mister Broody all day long.” Etta had invented the nickname for Batman from Diana’s accounts alone. Diana hated to admit its accuracy.

“It’s just diner, Etta. We’re going to have a fancy meal, he’ll try to take me home, I’ll turn him down, and he won’t call back. But at least I’ll have a nice evening.”

The redhead rolled her eyes.

“ _I’ll have a nice evening_ , she says.” Etta parroted.“Who knows, maybe you’ll like him so much you’ll actually follow him home and never come back. What’s your beau’s name already?”

Diana recalled the flirty eyes and the crocked smirk, the playboy attitude from the gala and yet his courage during their escape of the warehouse. She remembered thinking, ‘this man is like the adage; never judge a book by its cover’. And she remembered agreeing to his date because she found him intriguing.

“Bruce.”

 

 


	2. The Meeting

**Beneath the Mask**

**2 - The Meeting**

**3 days ago  
**

 

Another social gathering, another night of parading among boring socialites, pretending to be one of them. Bruce had given himself up until midnight to get ‘drunk’ and leave the party fashionably early. It was close enough to eleven thirty when hell broke loose.

Ten men heavily armed broke into the ballroom, making as much noise as could do, all faces covered with black ski masks. One shot in the air, making a few women and men shriek in panic. This was not how he had anticipated the night to go.

“Good evening ladies and gents!” the leader shouted. He was masked like the others, but had lifted the bottom part to speak. “If you do everything we say, no-one will get hurt. Now methinks you’re carrying far too much on your person. Hand over your jewelry –and I mean necklace, earrings, bracelets, watches, rings –and your wallets and cash!” a few men opened brown bags and thrust them under the nearest guests nose. “Don’t try to play the hero, I am warning you!”

As terrified guests started handing out their possessions, the leader’s gaze stopped on Bruce. A slow, satisfied smirk grew on his face. He made a beeline to him and stopped inches away. Bruce’s first reflex was to snarl, but he had to remind himself he was Bruce Wayne and not the Batman tonight. He settled for an in-between and stared back defiantly.

The leader seemed amused by his reaction.

“Little Weenie Brucie, the Prince of Gotham himself.” He rubbed his chin as if in deep thought. “You are worth a lot of money. You’re coming with us.”

His declaration was met by a collective round of gasps of horror. Bruce winced inwardly. How was he supposed to pull the Bat now?

“And don’t you even think of fighting back,” the leader added and snapped his fingers. “I’m taking insurance.”

_“Let go of me!”_

A protesting female voice made him freeze any kind of escape plan he had been formulating; two men were dragging a struggling woman with them. They had twisted her arm in her back, effectively preventing her from escaping without breaking a bone or dislocating her shoulder. Bruce vaguely remembered her from earlier; a dark-haired beauty who had been dancing with a blonde man. He remembered thinking they made an attractive couple, waltzing effortlessly around the room. Now she was alone and her beau was held back by two other masked men.

“I’ll follow you,” Bruce blurted before he could think things through. “No need to bring another hostage.”

The leader grinned wider.

“Sorry white knight, I’d rather take no risks.”

They were both led to the outside where a helicopter was waiting. Everything had been carefully prepared, he noticed, although he wasn’t sure his own rapt had been planned in advance, it certainly looked like they had enough room to squeeze a hostage or two. Once pushed into the flying machine, Bruce was knocked out cold.

He woke up with a painful headache and blurry thoughts.

“Are you alright?”

The woman from the gala was sitting next to him, their bodies touching from shoulder to hip. She spoke with an accent –he’d wager Greek- and her features were even more beautiful up close.

“I-yes,” he replied, figuring now was not the time to slip in the playboy act. “Are you?”

She only had her light blue cocktail dress and was slightly shivering. Before she could answer, he started to take off his vest. She interrupted his movement by putting her hand over his.

“I did not want to presume you would be alright with this while you were unconscious,” she started. “But perhaps it would be preferable if you held me to share body heat, instead of getting sick yourself.”

The thought became tempting for many reasons; the room wasn’t really warm and while he was a gentleman at heart, he’d rather not catch a cold. Not to mention, she was really good-looking and he was never one to decline a beautiful woman’s request. Bruce decided self-preservation was his primary motive when he opened his arms and welcomed her against his chest.

“As long as your boyfriend doesn’t punch me later,” he added, thinking of how well-built her date had been. The Batman would have landed him flat, but she couldn’t know that.

“Steve is a dear friend and a married one. I have no romantic interest in him.” Was it ridiculous to admit he felt glad by her confession? “Do molest me though, and you will suffer severe retribution.”

“I would never take advantage,” he solemnly promised, keeping his hands safely on her waist. Only then he took a closer note of their surroundings. The ground was made of stone, only one door, and a dim bulb blinked weakly on the ceiling. Noting much to get on so far…“Do you have any idea where we are?”

The woman shifted to fit comfortably in his embrace. Her head rested in the crook of his neck and her side was pressed against his chest. He had to move his hands higher if he didn’t want to touch a dangerous, sexually-assault-worthy zone –namely her ass.

“They flew for an hour or so. We landed about thirty minutes ago. I didn’t get to see outside the building we currently are in, but it looks big; at least four levels high,” she rattled off. “We’re probably in a warehouse next to the sea. They are well-armed and much more numerous that one could expect.”

“You have noticed a lot of things,” he pointed out. He felt more than saw her shrug.

“I am not exactly one of yours –a socialite, I mean. The only reason I was present tonight was because Steve needed a date and Etta –his wife –is far too sick to leave the house.”

“I thought I haven’t seen you in many events.” Neither had he seen much of the other man either come to think of it. “What do you do? Actually, what is your name?”

He felt her smile against the fabric of his shirt.

“Diana Prince.”

She shifted again. His hand was now flat against her back so he could feel the warmth of her skin. He was surprised to realize she was a lot fitter than he’d expected her to be. Lean and thin yes, but scarcely an ounce of fat; it was hard muscle that rolled under his palm.

Before he could ponder over their situation, the door busted open. Four soldiers entered, one leading, the others holding guns and carefully aiming at them.

“Take the woman,” the leader ordered coldly. Bruce reflexively held onto her tighter, gritting his teeth, ready to bounce on the closest one-

She gently pushed his hands away, stood on her own volition and calmly walked towards them. For a brief second, Bruce believed she was in cohorts with them, playing a part to earn his cooperation. But once she moved past the firearms…

Diana grabbed the wrist of the closest soldier and directed him violently against a second one. Both hit the wall in a loud ‘crash’. Bruce used the momentum of surprise to jump on the third and pummel him into unconsciousness while Diana caught the last soldier and threw him over her shoulder, head first on the ground. The two exchanged a silent stare before Diana glanced into the corridors.

“They didn’t bring backup,” she announced and walked out of their cells. “Are you coming? I’m not staying.”

The woman was bold and brave but far too impulsive Bruce told himself as he followed her. He’d have to be careful around her, he didn’t doubt she had realized he might have fighting skills a ‘socialite’ shouldn’t. They moved around the building, down the stairs, taking careful notes on where they were headed. They nearly stumbled on a few patrols, but stealth seemed to be another common ground and they moved undetected for a while. They had finally reached the second floor when a sudden exchange of bullets echoed outside the walls. Diana pulled him in the corridor, opened the nearest door –which turned out to be a large broom closet –and shoved him inside before locking them in.

“Reinforcement,” she whispered. “Steve must have rallied the troops soon after they left.”

Bruce recalled Steve equaled her date.

“How did they know where to look?” he wondered out loud.

Diana grinned.

“He sneaked a transmitter on one of the men holding him when they took me. Sweet man, he is always prepared.”

Bruce stared at her. Something wasn’t right. The woman was obviously trained to deal with stressful situations. He would bet half his fortune that had she not attended the gala…

“Why do I have the feeling these people were after you all along?”

The woman gave him an unreadable look; which he translated by being right.

“I’m sorry Mr. Wayne; that is sensible information I can’t talk about here.”

“Over dinner then?”

The words had been blurted without second thought, and much to his own surprise he realized he meant them. Her eyes widened and her mouth parted in astonishment. Bruce had the impression she didn’t get caught off-guard often.

“Are you asking me out?” she inquired, bemused.

“I’m stuck in a closet with a brave, beautiful woman whom I might never see again. Of course I am asking you out while I still can.”

Bullets fired nearby, quieting them. Diana pressed a hand against his chest and gently directed him back against the wall. She faced the door, using her body as a barrier between him and the only entrance. Bruce had this gut feeling they wouldn’t kill his companion if they could help it, but they wouldn’t bear him the same reservations. And by the way she acted, she thought the same.

“You know,” he whispered quietly –he only had to lean a bit to breathe into her ear. He sniffed a faint scent of jasmine in her hair. “It’s usually the man who protects the woman.”

“You will realize I care little for conventions,” she retorted just as quietly. Bruce was starting to like her. “Now hush. I don’t want to miss Steve’s voice.”

They remained hidden in the closest for at least another half-hour, him behind her, staring in silence at the door and straining their ears for a familiar sound. Eventually, the shooting died down and left a terrible silence settling instead. They waited long minutes wordlessly. Nothing changed.

“Stay here,” Diana eventually ordered. “I’ll see if the path is clear.”

She crept to the door and cracked it open. Years of practice as Batman and horned instincts kicked in and he threw himself and his companion on the floor. Bullets cribbed the spot where they had been standing merely seconds ago. Two shots later, a cry of agony was heard and a group of masked soldiers busted in the corridor. Diana rolled on her side, staring wide eyed at him.

“I owe you one, Mr. Wayne,” she said, slightly out of breath. “Nice reflexes.”

“Anything to help,” he replied, slipping back into the playboy’s skin. “We should, uh-“

Before he could finish his sentence, one of the incoming soldiers –SWAT, if Bruce wasn’t mistaking -knelt next to them. His companions kept guard around them, shielding them in case further rogues decided to show up.

“Everything’s fine?” the man asked, his voice muffled by his black hood.

“We’re good, Steve.” Ah, here was her date. “How bad is it?”

“There is a lot more going on that it appears. I need you and the civilian to evacuate; we’re trying to corner them.” The soldier handed her a gun, which she glared at with obvious distaste. “For the civilian,” he emphasized and finally looked at Bruce. “Do exactly what she says.”

Bruce nearly rolled his eyes. Instead, he saluted comically.

“Yessir.”

The SWATS didn’t give them further attention and ran down the corridor. Diana was already on her feet and he followed suit. As they slowly reached the lower level, they encountered bodies spread around the floor, shot by the rescue team. No survivors, Bruce noted, stuck between disgust and curiosity. Either the soldiers were out for blood, either those people were far more dangerous than he had anticipated.

“We’re not so far out,” Diana spoke quietly. “Steve mentioned –oh _shit_!”

This time, she pressed him against the wall, barely avoiding another series of bullets coming from enemy survivors. Their faces came very close; close enough so he could see his reflection in her deep blue.

“Is La Flûte de Pan a good place for you?” he whispered. She stared, incredulous. In his defense, her body pressed against his was becoming more and more distracting. People were still shooting widely in their direction. Bruce wished he had taken the suit with him, or something he could use to defend himself.

The shooting faltered. Diana crept closer to the corner, aimed the gun in the angle, and shot once. The sound of a body falling made him green. A renewed wave of bullets crashed against the wall. Diana waited a few moments again and took another aim. Another body fell amongst stunned cries.

“Gods, I hate guns,” he heard her mutter, then add louder. “Are you alright Mr. Wayne?”

“Perfect.”

“Good; because I’m going to ask you to hold this for me.”

She handed him the gun. Bruce froze.

“Absolutely not.”

“I need you to be able to protect yourself Mr. Wayne,” she shot back, arching an annoyed eyebrow. “For my own good conscience, take this even if you don’t use it.”

“That thing killed my parents. I am not touching it.”

Exasperation mixed with pity and perhaps understanding flew over her face. She dropped the gun on the ground and kicked it away. She pulled out of nowhere –or more likely, Steve might have slipped her in everyone’s back –a light bomb and waited for the salve bullets to falter to throw it in the direction of the shooters. Then, without waiting for the explosion, she grabbed his hand and pulled him in the lion’s den. It was a good thing that Bruce could actually move even half-blinded, or he would have tripped quite a few times on their way out. They ran down the corridor and busted to the outside, where they were immediately greeted by large flashlights strong enough to blind them.

“Hands up!”

“Freeze!”

Once again, Diana pushed Bruce down as trigger-happy soldiers pulled a few bullets without waiting for their surrender. He fell flat on his back while she sprawled on his chest. Their eyes met for the third time that night.

“Stand down idiots!” another voice ordered. “It’s the hostages!”

They were blue like a clear sky on a sunny day. Her dark hair was falling over their faces like a deep curtain. A small voice in the back of his mind reminded him now was not the time to flirt. He opened his mouth anyway:

“So, will next Friday at eight do?”

 

**Present day**

It was exactly as he told Clark, Bruce thought as he played with his bow tie. He had asked her out according to the Bruce Wayne persona, and –thought he hadn’t said that –to figure out more about the attack. He still had arrived uncharacteristically early at the restaurant, made sure the reservation table was in an isolated corner and discreetly set up a scrambler so no-one could eavesdrop their conversation. His leg still hurt a little from his earlier confrontation with another random bad guy, but not enough for him not to drive on his own.

Perhaps he should have taken on Wonder Woman’s relaxation technique offer after all.

Bruce immediately brushed the thought away. It was no secret that the super-heroine had a long-time crush on him. She was, if he were honest to himself, one of the few he trusted implicitly to have his back and a woman who had gained his respect a long time ago. She was kind, compassionate, patient, didn’t fear him, and didn’t hesitate to confront him. In another world, had he been anyone else, he might have asked her out. But in this world, he was the Batman, and the Bat couldn’t afford a public relationship even if she was a superheroine. That, and well, the secrecy behind her identity. It would be hypocrite from his part to claim her mask was a part of his reluctance to pursue something with her, but it did play a factor. So far, he knew each of his team member’s true names…except for hers. And as any unknown parameter in his live could become a threat to his or his family’s safety, Bruce couldn’t afford to take that step.

He glanced at his watch. Seven fifty-five. His current date should soon arrive. He forced all thoughts of Wonder Woman out of his head and focused on how he should spend the night with Diana. He hadn’t found much on her life, though to be honest he hadn’t pushed that far and she had obviously agreed to his date out of curiosity. He hoped he wouldn’t be disappointed by her. At best, he’d manage to get some information. At worse, he would only reinforce his reputation.

Ah well, he’d just have to see.

 

 

 


	3. First Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta-ed work, so all mistakes are mine.  
> Enjoy :)

**Beneath the Mask**

**3 - First Date  
**

 

While Diana had been living in Man’s World for a few decades, she still hadn’t understood why women took so many hours to dress up. Thankfully, or perhaps not, Etta was more than up to the task of assisting. Though she didn’t really need it, the bubbly strawberry redhead insisted she spent at least half an hour arranging her hair –which she’d ended up leaving loose –and another half applying a minimum makeup. The dress she had saved from a previous party –long, black, hugging her every curve –would easily fit in a cocktail or a fancy restaurant, so she had gained time in that domain.

Etta sighed dreamily as she watched her adjust her earrings; two long silver chains with small pearls at the bottom.

“Di, sometimes, I would _kill_ to have your body,” she muttered. “Are you flying there? Or is he picking you up?”

“I told him I would join him straight at the restaurant. He ordered a taxi,” Diana replied. She had long hesitated on whether to keep her armored bracelets; but eventually favored the silver trinkets she had found on a market in Mexico a few years back. Tonight was her day off, the League wouldn’t contact her unless there was a real emergency. “I didn’t want him to come here.”

“More like you didn’t want to have to wait for him,” Etta retorted with a knowing smirk. “Are you going to be fashionably late?”

“Just a few minutes, I suppose. He might arrive even later than I.”

“Di, if I was a guy and I had a date with _you_ , I’d make sure to be fashionably _early_.”

She laughed and ran a hand in her hair one last time.

“I still think I should tie them in a high plait.”

Etta groaned and buried her head in the closest cushion.

“Make up your mind, you’ll be gorgeous whatsoever.”

Diana made up her mind and twirled it into a stylish low bun.

The taxi was waiting when she stepped out of the house. Mrs. Floyd was squinting from behind her curtains, no doubt already plotting her next move. Diana waved at her and grinned when the old woman retreated quickly. She arrived at the restaurant right on time –Bruce Wayne must have tipped the chauffeur really well –and was welcomed by the butler at the front door. After giving her name, she was immediately directed down the main aisle of the restaurant to Bruce Wayne’s table. There he was, standing in the back in his tailor-made suit and red bowtie, looking impeccably handsome. His smile grew when he saw her. Then, as if in slow motion, his eyes widened to nearly pop out of their socket. She knew she looked stunning, but the jaw-dropping of the infamous playboy flattered her ego.

“Good evening, Mr. Wayne.”

He seemed to recover quick enough, but his eyes never left her.

“Miss Prince,” he replied, his voice coarser than last time.

Diana smiled, well-aware of her beauty and her effect on men; she had some time to get used to it. Other customers were staring too, some outright glaring in envy. She let him kiss the back of her hand and lead her to their table; a quiet spot in the far end of the restaurant, mostly isolated from the rest of the room. Diana immediately approved of the intimacy it brought, as she suspected he would want to broach a few sensitive subjects.

She had done a little research since their escapade, had learned of his reputation and habits. Bruce Wayne was the undisputed Prince of Gotham; a renowned playboy and philanthropist, popular amongst its people in spite of his slips. Back in the warehouse, she had been a little startled by his boldness at attacking one of their assailants. He hadn’t lost his cool in spite of the guns aimed at his head, though she suspected the flirting had been a way to trick his nervousness. Perhaps his fondness for extreme sports had helped him keep calm in such a tense situation. Nothing suggested he should have any martial training of some sorts…aside from those years where he seemed to have vanished while touring around the world.

She had wondered whether she should question the Bat on the matter and had quickly dismissed the idea; Diana suspected he would berate her for entering his sacred town at all, no matter her identity or the reason. After all, it would be as she had told Etta: Bruce Wayne would satisfy his curiosity, be charming all evening, try to lure her back home or someplace else, she’d turn him down and he’d forget about her by the end of the week.

“Miss Prince, you look lovely tonight.”

The genuine compliment made her smile.

“Thank you. I would say you look dashing, but you must hear that a lot too.”

“Never enough,” he sighed dramatically.

“I hope you recovered well from the kidnapping?” she inquired politely. Wayne’s smile wavered slightly but returned quickly.

“It was an interesting evening; though hardly the first time.” She nodded in understanding; another bunch of articles had mentioned his repetitive kidnappings. “Though I have to admit this time, my rescuer was far prettier than the usual.”

“The Batman?” she assumed. He returned a wink and pulled her chair. She sat and watched him take the opposite seat.

“Not many people outside of Gotham believe in his existence,” he remarked.

“Not many people have seen the things I have,” she retorted. Diana didn’t want to sound mysterious or arrogant, but it was the truth; she doubted any mortal had visited the three domains of Hades and lived to tell the tale. Though in their defense, mortals coming down to Tartarus were already dead and had no reason to resurface. Not to mention she worked with said Batman on nearly daily basis. “A vigilante dressing up to fight crime is not such an unbelievable feat. Just look at Superman, or Flash. Why not a Bat? At least he picked up a theme.”

He looked pensive at her words, though not in a bad way. Rather, as if she had startled him but he didn’t want to show. Then he smirked, and she couldn’t help but find it charming. The articles were right about that.

“So, Miss Prince, who are you?” he asked with a lazy drawl. “I barely found anything about you on the social medias.”

Diana smiled; so it seemed that he had attempted to lead his own investigation on her too. Unfortunately for him, she and the Bat had this common point: a complete control over the access of their secret identity.

“I do not see the point in them,” she admitted. “There is so much more in meeting people in real life instead of using the web as a connection to the outside. My friends call me outdated, and perhaps I was raised the old-fashioned way.” She leaned forward with a conspiracy tone: “But I never saw the interest in exposing my life to everyone’s judgment.”

A flash ran through his eyes.

“Is it tied to the fact that you work for the government?” he asked, and she was slightly surprised he’d jump to that conclusion.

“It might,” she admitted. “But my reasons are purely personal. I am no high ranking operative, just an expert translator.” He raised a questioning brow. She grinned. “I am perfectly fluent in fifteen” – _more like a thousand_ , she nuanced mentally- “different languages and have basic understanding in twice as many more, including rare ones. My skill has led me to translate both official and unofficial documents containing sensitive information before.”

“Was that why those mercenaries were at the gala? Because of that sensitive information?”

An attack tied to some kingdom in the backlands of Europe, she recalled Steve’s report. Apparently, someone had taken offense at her revealing an upcoming coup within the monarchy. Either they had sought revenge or they had needed her knowledge for another end.

“Yes,” she replied. Once again, she thought she might have surprised him with her honesty. “And I am sorry you were caught up in the mess.”

“You are surprisingly candid about this,” he remarked.

“I am a terrible liar, and I feel I owe you an explanation.”

He smiled. Damn, he did earn his reputation as a charmer.

“That’s very thoughtful of you.” He shifted on his seat, set his elbows on the table, his chin on his crossed hands, and leaned forward in turn. He had the most mesmerizing blue eyes. “So, serious subjects aside, what is your favorite color?”

 

**Beneath the Mask**

 

The first part of the diner went quite well, in Bruce’s opinion. He had thought he’d have to probe her and interrogate her subtly, but Miss Prince –or Diana, as she allowed him to call her by the end of their entrée –had beat him to it. She had been incredibly opened without actually saying too much, before switching into charming company. Bruce genuinely enjoyed their light conversation and banter. She was incredibly cultured, consequence of having travelled all over the world since her teenage years.

“My aunt was an amazing soldier,” she said with a hint of pride when he asked her about her fighiting skills. “She insisted I learned very early to defend myself. Every woman in my family is a force to reckon with.”

She sounded distant with her family, as they seemed to be living far away. From what he deduced, she and her mother had a fight years ago that still went unresolved. Her parents were separated and as for her father…Diana made it clear he was not to be mentioned anytime soon. Still, she spoke fondly of all of them, so he figured she knew they would reconcile once one managed to swallow their ill-placed pride. He also learned that she loved romance books, the most recent science-fiction movies with special effects, and was particularly fond of music from the eighties. She wasn’t attached to any particular kind of food, though would kill any day for an Iced Mocha.

The more he got to know her, the more Bruce found himself liking her. He didn’t even try to push the flirting past a teasing banter; this was a woman who knew what she wanted; if spending time in a more intimate environment with him was it, she’d let him know. He would not insult her intelligence by pretending he couldn’t take a hint. It was different from his usual MO, but he figured he could be pleasant to a woman from time to time. He had been nothing but charming with Lois, back in the days. And while Diana seemed to enjoy his company, she didn’t hint she was seeking for more than one enjoyable diner.

He told himself he did not feel disappointed.

In turn, he told her about his life, his pseudo excesses as a billionaire and his position as a CEO, how seriously he took his duty in spite of people’s beliefs.

“People have no idea what it’s like to be on top,” he suddenly blurted, staring at his half-eaten plate. “To watch the consequences for people relying on a decision your board of directors made. In the end, you are the only one responsible. Gotham sorely needs to be cleansed from corruption, but it will only happen once people won’t have the need to work for crocked thugs. Giving out real jobs is a starting point.”

“You truly love your city,” Diana noted with a hint of surprise and compassion. “I wonder how many people see the pressure you set upon yourself to succeed. Is your playboy a persona to fool your enemies or just a part of yourself you set free for release?”

Bruce realized he might have said too much, but at least hadn’t seemed to betray his double identity. She watched him, calm and expecting a serious answer.

“I don’t overthink it. If I started to self-analyze, I’d end up crazy,” he said instead. Diana smiled, allowed his escape, and changed conversation.

When they finally reached dessert, he knew he had to break things up  _now_. Diana was far out of his league, a wonderful woman he actually wanted to get to know better. The impulse was faint, but lingering stronger than he’d like to admit. Attraction was a familiar feeling to him when it came to dates, but with Diana…it wasn’t just a matter of physical intimacy.

Oh, he definitively wanted to know how her hair felt in his hands, how her lips would taste, if she’d let him touch her. But he also felt inexorably drawn to her mind. He wanted to spend hours talking with her and hear the passion in her voice. He wanted to figure out what made her sad, what made her angry, what made her laugh. He wanted-

“What is on your mind? You look distracted.”

And she could see right through him. Now that was another problem.

“I’m fine,” he assured her. She did not believe him. “Are you enjoying your meal?”

Diana put down her fork, linked her fingers together. Her eyebrows turned stern and the line of her mouth curled downward.

“If whatever is troubling concerns one of your personal matters, be honest about it, I won’t inquire further. If it concerns me, please, I’m listening.”

He was tempted to deflate, to avoid her stare and feed her a half-truth that would not content her. Diana was straightforward, she would not settle for an excuse. Thus another sign why he should not see her again.

“I don’t think this will go anywhere.”

Much to his surprise, her shoulders relaxed and she smiled again.

“There, this was not hard,” she teased, slightly patronizing before asking: “How so?”

“Our profiles don’t quite match. We live different lives; you’re often traveling around the world or working here and there. We wouldn’t have time to meet or exchange much…”

Once again, she surprised him and burst into laughs in the middle of his sentence.

“Oh Bruce,” she giggled again. “I knew of your reputation far before I met you and honestly, I am spending a better evening that I thought. I had no expectations when you asked me out, I still have none now.”

At this very moment, Bruce felt like a complete idiot. His cheeks flushed red and he focused back on his food. She was enjoying her meal _more than she’d thought_. It meant she didn’t seem to have set high standards with him from the beginning. Now  _that_  stung his pride. He swallowed it down; he was the one who had invited her to know more about her, but he was not used to backhanded rejection.

Perhaps he should have stuck with thanking her and kept pinning after Wonder Woman after all.

Her expression was slightly guilty but not apologetic. He couldn’t fault her for being honest. The rest of the diner went smoothly, though a little less lively. When time came to leave, Bruce offered to drive her back. She agreed, as she wasn’t in the mood to return in a taxi. They rode in a comfortable silence, only broken by the pop music on the radio. She led him to a quiet neighborhood and stopped in front of a rather small, banal-looking house.

“I had a lovely evening,” Diana spoke first. “It has been a while since I could enjoy myself freely. So thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.” He replied.

He did not want the night to end. He did not want to see her leave yet. He wanted to do something to hold her back. He didn’t know what. Diana leaned forward. For a brief moment, Bruce thought she was going to kiss him goodbye. She kissed his cheek instead. A light peck on the skin, very gentle, barely a bird’s touch. Her perfume –jasmine and a little of something else –hit him like a mace and he involuntarily breathed sharply. She pulled away, a shy smile growing on her lips.

“I will see you around Bruce.”

She stepped out of the car, leaving him behind and speechless. He heard barking inside as she approached the house and couldn’t remember if she mentioned owning dogs; a redhead woman –roommate, Etta Trevor -opened before she even reached the handle, bouncing slightly on her feet. Twenty seconds after she shut the door and shut him out –but not before giving him a little wave –he finally turned the engine on and departed.

When he returned to the manor, Alfred welcomed him with a perfectly raised eyebrow.

“I was not expecting your return until far later, Master Wayne.” The _‘I thought you were going to spend the night somewhere else’_ did not go unheeded.

“We just had diner.” The involuntary ‘ _I thought so too_ ’ also hung in the air.

“Was it a pleasant evening?”

“A very pleasant one.”

“I see,” the butler said, though Bruce could tell he didn’t really. “Will we be seeing her again?” 

The Batman in him would be annoyed with this, but Bruce just knew he had to. She was too intriguing not to.

“I certainly hope so.”

 

 


	4. Hades' Outing -Part 1

**Beneath the Mask**

**3 – Hades’ Outing**

**Part 1**

 

“So, so, soooooo? How did it go?”

Diana let herself fall on the couch with a heavy huff. Kerr and Russ lavished her with canine attention again until she shooed them off the couch. They settled at her feet instead and stared with twin eager eyes, tails wagging furiously like kids on Christmas Eve.

“Not too bad,” she replied. Etta nearly launched herself on the next cushion, pouting dramatically.

“ _Not too bad_? You just spent five hours with  _Bruce Wayne_! I  _demand_  details!”

Diana laughed heartily at her friend’s enthusiasm.

“Steve isn’t home yet?” she asked, trying to vainly delay the confidence part.

“He’s gone to bed, poor baby had a terrible day. And don’t try to change subjects!” Etta pointed at her with an authoritarian finger. “Is he charming?”

Diana smiled, remembering his handsome face and manners.

“Very.”

“Funny?”

“He has a good sense of humor.”

“He isn’t too stupid? I mean, tabloids say he can’t make a difference between right and left and jumps on everything that’s pretty.”

Diana countered her statement with a shake of her head.

“He was very gentlemanly and actually…he’s smarter than he looks.” In spite of her self-promise not to judge, she hadn’t expected him to behave like an actual _normal_ person. In that regard, she had been pleasantly surprised. “Very nice and respectful,” she concluded.

“He didn’t try to kiss you?” Etta squirmed as she asked. The two dogs seemed to lean forward in intense interest. Russ’ ears straightened and Kerr even growled a little. Diana snorted inwardly; it wouldn’t be the first time Hades opened a link through their minds to shamelessly eavesdrop. The hellhounds belonged to him, and he could be intrusive like that.

“No, he did not. He kept his hands to himself, paid the diner and drove me back.” Pause. “I kissed him on the cheek before leaving.”

Etta squealed. The dogs sighed and grunted both.

“And…and are you going to see him again?”

Diana’s amused smile wavered.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Why not? He’s hot and by your own standards, he’s smart; he could be good fun.”

_He’s not Batman_ , was what she wanted to reply, because it was the truth. While she did spend a lovely evening, she couldn’t help but wish Bruce had been her caped colleague. By the end, it hadn’t been that hard to imagine: he was just as tall, just as broad, and the darkness of his car had hidden most of his features when the time to say goodbye had come. She hadn’t closed her eyes, but her heartbeat had accelerated when she’d kiss his cheek. The soft, smooth chin had smelt of cologne and lime. For a brief moment, she wondered how it would feel to press her lips to his mouth. Then she had chased the idea out of her mind; while it had been a few years since she’d been with anyone, she didn’t want to literally jump in bed with the first guy. Least of all a well-known playboy, no matter how great his bedding skills were rumored to be.

She ran her hand through her hair and let them down. She briefly wondered if Batman had enjoyed his date as much as she had and what kind of woman would catch his attention. Or perhaps he was more attracted by men?

Etta flicked a finger to her forehead.

“Stop thinking of Mr. Broody,” she chided. “You just had a great evening with another man, it’s  _disrespectful_.”

Diana laughed.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. I can’t help it.”

Russ and Kerr rose and pawed her knees. Their eyes had suddenly turned into a deep shade of crimson. Diana felt her smile leave her face. Hades wanted to talk. Etta seemed to sense the shift of mood and glanced at the dogs in turn. She squeaked uncomfortably.

“Bloody hell, I hate when your father does this!” she said and rose from her seat. “I’m going to bed now. As for you…chop chop Diana, you don’t want to make the Lord of the Underworld wait.”

_No you don’t want to make him wait_ , Diana echoed sarcastically, though she did hurry up the staircase; father or not, one did not deny the request of the Lord of the Underworld.

She climbed to the attic where she had set her private quarters and locked the door behind. Before Etta and Steve had moved in, it had just been an empty spot where she stacked the stuff she didn’t bother throwing away. When she had opened her house to them, she had to rearrange it completely: a king-sized bed occupied the left corner, right next to the window for emergency departures. On the left, a door led to a large bathroom she had set up herself for two purposes: the washing and the underworld gate opening. She knew Etta wouldn’t dare to eavesdrop –especially after last time –but she felt these moments needed as most privacy as she could offer. Russ and Kerr were unusually still and quiet by her side, watching as she set the ceremonial mirror on the hairdresser. She bit her thumb to blood and let it drop of the glass. Russ and Kerr physical’s shapes blurred and were aspired into the mirror, creating a cloudy background and a temporary gate to Tartarus. Seconds later, the familiar face of the god of the Underworld reflected back at her.

Not for the first time, Diana sought for the resemblance between them: the dark hair and the shape of her eyes, the corner of his smile and tan skin. Hippolyta had long complained she had inherited his mischievous grin. Thankfully, she had yet inherited his arrogance.

_“My child_ ,” he spoke with the same pride and patronizing tone he always used in her presence. “ _I’m glad you could return my call so fast.”_

Diana bit back an exasperated sigh.

“I try father,” she said, and before he could comment on her date, went to the point: “What did you want to discuss?”

He grimaced in distaste, which usually meant he had messed up with something and was counting on her to clean up his mess.

_“I’m afraid I’ve been far too bored lately. You know, without you or Persie to keep me company_ …A _mortal decided to make a deal with me. And I got curious.”_

_Oh dear_ , she thought, biting back the urge to roll her eyes.

“What have you done?”

Though in the wrong, he sounded perfectly unapologetic.

_“His name is Faust, he was very interested in absolute knowledge and with my infinite library…”_ she knew what was coming next. _“He promised to set me free.”_

“By Hera, father, how could you be so stupid!” she scolded. “You aren’t to leave Tartarus!”

_“I have done my job for millenniums now_ ,” he protested. _“I do miss the outside world from time to time. And really my child, do you truly believe I would break my word to you?”_

While he could be amazingly conning and deceiving, Diana didn’t doubt the sincerity of his promise. Lady Persephone herself had once told her that she had rarely seen her husband in such high spirits after he found out he had a daughter. In spite of all appearances, she had him wrapped around her finger. Diana doubted it though; Hades was still a god with its pros and cons.

_“Neither I nor my minions may take an action that might compromise Man’s World nor the Amazons’ welfare as long as you live_ ,” he repeated his vow, probably to mollify her. “ _I just intended to see the sun for a while and burn Faust to the ground. No mortal should dare seek the knowledge of the gods so boldly.”_

Now _there_ was the arrogance she was familiar with.

“So what now, oh great Lord of the Underworld?”

_“I am afraid Hippolyta will not listen to that sorcerer and will attempt to…subdue him.”_

“Of course she will oppose him; it is her duty to guard your door!”

_“Unfortunately, he has accumulated unimaginable magic for a mortal. I doubt your mother and sisters will resist his spells. Thus, you better hurry to warn her of Faust’ coming or find the keys to open said door,_ ” he pointed out.

This time, Diana did roll her eyes.

“Unbelievable!”

_“Three thousand years underground, my child,_ ” he reminded her. _“And no plotting to take over the world yet. I think I could beneficiate a little…is ‘parole’ the correct word?”_

“Petition to Zeus next time,” she grumbled. “I’ll see what I can do.” Another pause. “You do remember mother and I aren’t in speaking terms?”

_“Bah! Hippolyta got over me, she can get over a little rebellious phase. Surely this isn’t the first time you’ve tempted her to expose your head on a pike.”_

_I hadn’t stolen the Champion armor then_ , she thought instead.  _And she has no idea of your own gifts either._

The helmet and the cape had been items she had requested from Hades to ensure her anonymity in Man’s World. If Hippolyta ever saw her wearing them in addition to the armor, she would have a fit. But with Steve, with Etta, with all the friends and relationships she had been cultivating over the years…too much was at stake. She had seen the worse mankind was capable of and if her connection with them was known…Hiding her identity as Wonder Woman shielded her friends; thus indebting herself to Hades was worth it. With another heavy sigh, she rose from her seat.

“Well then, I will send updates through your hellhounds upon my return.”

_“Kerr and Russ are yours now, my child,”_ he reminded her _. “Be well.”_

She brushed the glass of the mirror with her bloodied finger again. It returned to its normal state and the two mentioned hellhounds reappeared on the floor, sound asleep. She didn’t waste any time and slipped out of her dress and into the Amazonian armor. After a quick debate, she took the helmet, the cape and a backpack. She’d fly straight to Themyscira and hide the two items upon arrival as not to prick Hippolyta’s sensibility.

Now, there was one last little detail.

“Wonder Woman to Watchtower,” she called with her communicator.

_“Watchtower to Wonder Woman, I’m listening.”_

Kal’s voice reminded her Batman was out there on a date with another woman –or man. Doing whatever. She pushed away the thought and focused on the present.

“I’m taking a leave of absence for a few days, effective immediately.”

_“Is something the matter?”_ Kal sounded worried.

“Just some ruckus I’ve been made aware of, but noting I shouldn’t be able to handle. If I have trouble, I’ll call in.”

_“Are you sure? Shayera is available if-”_

“No, I’ll be fine.” No need to bring that mercenary on an island filled with warrior women, either side might have too much fun. “Wonder Woman out.”

She cut the link, opened the window. Russ and Kerr were snoring deeply, exhausted by the latest communication.

_‘They are yours now_ ’.

Hades never gave gifts. The Helmet and the Cape might have been lent until needed elsewhere, but Kerr and Russ would never truly belong to her. They were born and bred in the Underworld and subjects to Hades’ whims. Whenever he wished to peek at the surface, one of the twin dogs would submit to his will and open his eyes to him. Diana thought she might disagree with Etta; stolen or not, the Amazon Armor didn’t have that kind of drawback.

One last glance at the snoring canines, and she slipped out of the window to fly back home.

 

**Beneath the Mask**

 

Superman had been planning on making one last tour over the Western side of the planet before going to sleep when a disturbance interrupted his flight. In the distance, he heard the sound of people fighting, and was surprised to recognize Wonder Woman’s familiar battle scream. He paused midair and turned around. When he arrived, hovering over the disemboweled roof of a museum, he saw pieces of a huge statue falling apart and his colleague standing in the middle of the rumbles.

_What the hell?_

“Wonder Woman! What’s going on?” he barked as he landed besides her.

His colleague turned around in position to fight and relaxed when she recognized him.

“This is not your concern,” she dismissed him, pocketing something in her shoulder bag.

“When my friend starts tearing up museums, it becomes my concern,” he retorted dryly. “I’ve already alerted the others. When they get here, they’ll want an explanation.”

She huffed in annoyance and crossed her arms. Her irritation was clearly visible, but he had long learned it could mean something else. While Wonder Woman never lied, she would draw up some walls to conceal her true feelings at time, masking an emotion with another. And right now, no matter how much hostility she could project, he knew she was upset and worried.

“Fine, let’s wait. I’ll only speak once.”

The others, being Flash, J’onn and John, arrived soon after. Clark hadn’t bothered calling Bruce yet; five Leaguers could deal with one matter without their master tactician and Shayera had elected to stay behind to keep watch.

“Do you want the short version or the long one?” Wonder Woman asked impatiently.

“Let’s start with the short version.” Superman declared. He was not disappointed.

“A sorcerer turned my family into stone.”

“I vote for the long version,” Flash said, raising a hand like a student.

“Was that the emergency you left for earlier?” Superman inquired. No wonder why she’d be worried.

“Not exactly.” Even with the helmet hiding most of her face, he could tell she was grimacing. “Someone warned me of upcoming trouble at home. I was heading back to prevent any kind of…incident. But I was too late. The sorcerer, Felix Faust, had already arrived and had the upper hand. I have less than twenty-two hours to find three missing pieces of a puzzle.” She stared at the carved rock in her hand. “Two missing pieces,” she amended.

“Do you know does what that sorcerer wants?” John asked.

“Unlimited knowledge. He made a deal with a stupid, obnoxious, power-craving deity possessing an infinite storage of old dusty, books in his underground junkyard.”

“I assume you are acquainted with said deity?” J’onn guessed. Wonder Woman’s Batmanish grunt was all the answer they needed.

“The island I live on keeps a piece of the key that will open the gates to the deity’s release. Faust started there. He promised to free my family if I completed the task for him.”

Now things made more sense.

“How can you be so sure about this?” Clark eventually asked.

“Of course I don’t trust him, but what else can I do?”

Flash knocked a fist in his other.

“I say we’d go back and kick that would-be sorcerer’s butt!”

“Superman wasn’t talking about Faust, Wonder Woman.” John corrected. “How can you know for sure your deity won’t try to conquer the world once he is released? You just said he craves power.”

Her lips pinched into a line.

“He won’t,” she replied assuredly. “But even then, I still need to find the two other keys.”

“I’m afraid that leaves us but one course of action,” J’onn spoke up. “We’ll have to help you.”

Wonder Woman tensed. Her hands tightened into fists and she shook her head vigorously.

“No. My homeland is forbidden to outlanders.” Homeland? Superman noted. “Besides, I gave my word that I would find the other relics on my own.” She slowly floated off the ground. “I apologize for upcoming disturbances, but I have a puzzle to complete and a sorcerer’s head to snap. If you’ll excuse me.”

Before they could move, she flew to the javelin and took off. The four leaguers exchanged puzzled stares.

“What now?”

Clark signed and reached for his comlink.

“We call for reinforcements,” he said and dialed Bruce Wayne’s private line, hoping he wasn’t _interrupting_ his friend. When the other side picked up, he heard no suspicious sound and assumed the field was safe. “Batman, it’s Superman.” An acknowledging grunt was his only reply. “I know you might be busy, but this is a matter of emergency. I need some background information on a man named Faust. Felix Faust. He’s some kind of sorcerer.”

Silence.

_“Care to tell me what’s going on?”_

“He charged Wonder Woman with a quest and she won’t accept help.”

_“Did it occur to you she might not need it?”_

“He’s planning to release a deity. A ‘stupid obnoxious power-craving deity’, to quote her own words.”

New silence. Clark had his interest now. No matter this new girlfriend, Wonder Woman would always be a chunk in his armor.

_“Follow her trail until I get more information on Faust._ ” The dark knight said eventually _.“Batman out.”_

 

 


End file.
